You notice a little female figure; her cheeks are pinked to a hue rivalling the American beauty rose; her lips are carmined like a clowns and her eyebrows penciled too obviously. Her cheap little dress is amateurishly cut in imitation of "the latest." Your first impulse, perhaps, is to scorn her as a "brazen" creature of the streets; but if you will suspend judgment and look a little closer, you may see that her eyes are, in their depths, those of a child, for all her seeming experience. Her brazenness is perhaps only the armor which she has donned to hide a turbulent heart--the dowry of centuries of grandmothers who longed for one glimpse of freedom; of the right to comb their hair as they liked; to powder their faces if they wanted to; to run and jump and laugh and dance and be innocently free and happy without the fear of shocking that bugbear Respectability, and the tyrant Decorum, which insisted that a woman's legs must be carefully concealed on penalty of being adjudged "immodest." Those poor reviled, execrated and vigilantly-concealed legs of our fore-mothers! They are crying aloud for vindication, and they will be heard wherever the line of least resistance affords a channel for their freedom. And so, instead of blaming the poor little painted doll of a woman, look into her heart. You will discover that she is bent on having two things long denied womankind--freedom and happiness. If she is foredoomed to failure on the route she has chosen, that is all the more reason why you should withhold censure and give freely of your help and sympathy. "_Learn to look into the hearts of men._" Learn to see beneath the appearance. The old Italian organ-grinder doing his best to please you with his wheezy hurdy-gurdy is not just an old organ-grinder. He is also a man with emotions and feelings and longings and hopes identical in substance with your own; no matter if the organ is out of tune. Learn to hear the _spirit_ of the aria or the intermezzo. And behold! There is a bunch of noisy, dirty, slangy and bold street-arabs--at least that is what they look like from the outside. But learn to look within. There you will find the cause of their appearance, and when you have found the cause you will sympathize with them. If you can get back to the underlying cause of the manifestations of life, you will never fail to sympathize with the condition you may find, even though you find the cause rooted in crime. You do not have to agree with the criminal in order to sympathize with his misery. If you have the inner vision, which you must have if you would transmute the baser metals into pure gold and find the key to immortal life and love, you will never fail to understand and to sympathize with every point of view. "Whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral."